


Stricken

by PromptBomb



Series: Mini Prompt Fics [5]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, Ender Eye Au, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Kissing, Other, Reader-Insert, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 02:55:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17357609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PromptBomb/pseuds/PromptBomb
Summary: You took the curse of the Ender Eye upon yourself in hopes to find Ryan. Instead, something else found you.





	Stricken

A continuation of [In a Blink](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10235129)

* * *

You sought shelter in the cradle of ruins that once stood as the stronghold of your kingdom, a kingdom sundered by the very King you had sworn fealty to. Lush and fertile farmlands laid barren, the earth charred and blackened, peppered with the bones of livestock and victims of that first terrible surge of madness that had overtaken him. Even the remains of what had been the castle look skeletal, the ramparts broken and reaching into the dark sky like fingers seeking rescue from the terrible bleakness surrounding them. Time held no meaning; you couldn’t even recall the last time you dared to seek the pale warmth of sunlight to even try and discern the night from the day. Hours. Days. Weeks. How long had it been since you collapsed into the rumble, skin blistering hot with fever with an unslakable thirst and a stomach too knotted to even hold down a crumb of rations?

You roll onto your back, ignoring the way that glass and rocks pinch and prod at your flesh. You had nearly stripped yourself bare as the fever escalated, even what little clothing remained for modesty felt burdensome, sweltering. Your chest heaves in deep, almost labored breaths, your hands pull through your damp locks, fisting against your skull in some attempt to quell the spinning room in which you lay. Even if you could sleep there was no reprieve. Your dreams are haunted by so many flashes of images. Places you've never been; sounds you can barely make sense of as if you coexisted with hundreds of other consciouses at once. It was maddening.

You wonder if this is what Ryan had gone through when he took on his own Ender Eye. If he had raged against the fever and the nightmares before finding solace in the madness that eventually took him. He was stronger, a divine king crowned with stars, so what chance did you even have when this affliction had taken so much of him? Would you even survive or would your corpse be laid here with the rest of his broken kingdom? You close your eye, the Ender one refusing to shut, though all you see through it is blackness. It had been foolish to think you could have followed him in this way.

“It would be better if you just give in.”

Your eye shoots open, a surge of adrenaline erupts through your veins as you sit up in response to the voice, so sweetly purred and softly spoken. You see him there, a clear image cut through your blurred vision; as if he were a child's cut out pasted onto an opaque background. “R-Ryan?”

He was as he was before, whole and strong. He stood almost militaristic, arms folded behind a straight back, adding to his height which already feels like it's towering over you. He looks down at you, a light smirk flirting the corner of his lips, “What do you hope to accomplish, hm? You were always so brash, so hot-headed, the first to run headlong into danger. I admired that about you, it made you a useful tool.”

You swallow a dry breath, scorching your already parched throat. “You're not him…”

“Does it matter to you at the moment?” He strikes you silent. You can't deny that even as a specter you draw comfort from seeing him, from hearing his voice. His eyes seem to soften; as if he senses your thoughts, and before you realize it he has come to kneel at your side. His hand cradles your face, his fingers seem so cool, so inviting to your fevered flesh that you can't help the soft moan tumbling from your lips. “Stop fighting.” He coos, slicking your damps locks away from your brow as he cups your chin, forcing you to lock gaze with him. “Just give in.”

“I want to.” You admit, tears whelming in your one good eye.

“It's so easy.” He smiles warmly and comes to lean closer, his lips pressing briefly against your own. “Just surrender to it, let it consume you and you'll be free.” You move to make an argument but he silences you once more, his mouth fully taking yours before the words could form. The taste of his mouth is like ambrosia, it sparks a hunger in you that you can't recall ever knowing before. You shudder as his hand presses against the small of your back, such a simple motion but the power behind it crushes you delightfully against his frame, letting your fingers clutch his regalia as he draws you to straddle his lap.

This was home. It was the early morning sunrise as you walked the castle's battlements together, the warm Summer's breeze when you stole away to the fields. It was that first kiss claimed at King Gavin's Festival of Fools. The first time he took you completely, there in his war tent, when he thought you lost to the fray. It was perfect, peaceful.

**_“It's a lie.”_ **

The voice in your mind brings you clarity, spoken so gently as a whisper. But it wasn't the one with you, so busy with melding your mouths together, pushing you onto your back so you could feel the weight of them against your chest.

**_“Rage against it.”_ **

You break contact, “Ryan?”

The entity above you hisses, speaking in a malformed voice. “Yesss…” He moves in to take you once more and your hands against his chest find strength, pushing him to an arm's length. The specter's form shifts, like a fluttering shadow escaping light, and you see it begin to contort, trying to keep its form, an agitated snarl turning it's mouth into a cruel visage. It knows you see it for what it is. You grunt as it's hand comes around your throat, pinning you to the ground, fingers turning black stealing the air before it can reach your lungs. “Pitiful mortal!” It bellows; as the shadow consumes what had once resembled Ryan, leaving only a dark silhouette with two fiery violet eyes. “ I might have lulled you sweetly to your end-”

**_“Fight it.”_ **

“But instead I'll have you screaming so to dine on your fear!”

**_“Do it now!”_ **

The shadow breaks open, cracking almost like an egg and you see in the horrible maul that appears are infinite rows of jagged cut teeth descending into a dark abyss.

**_“NOW!”_ **

A guttural scream rips through you, the sound reverberating off the crumbling walls and causing them to shake and rain debris down upon you. You feel an outpouring of raw, unbridled energy, seeping into every fiber of your body, threatening to tear you apart as it forcibly pulls your muscles from entropy. The specter, unprepared, howls as your hand grabs its wispy wrist, making contact, burning it away with an eruption of violet flames at your touch. You allow momentum to carry you, first to sit and then to push up to kneel, eventually springing forward with enough force to slam the entity against the wall. Again, you scream as energy pulses out of your body, your hands on the things chest calling forth a rush of flames that begin to consume it whole, burning the shadow away into ash that shifts apart on the wind.

And then, darkness.

When next you wake you find yourself in more comfortable surroundings. Your body rested in the cradle of a soft mattress, a warm blanket pulled up to your chin and tucked tightly to conserve your body heat. The warm light of day spills in from an open window, a soft sweet breeze shifting the curtains almost playfully. You sit up, and for a moment your head spins, your soft groan bringing a strange hand to press against your forehead. “Sshh.” says a deep voice, a familiar voice. You follow the length of the arm to see King Jack sitting at your bedside, regarding you with a sympathetic yet inquisitive stare. “Easy.”

“Sire…” You beginning, only for him to interrupt.

“Your fever has finally broken. We did not think you’d survive the night.”

You look at your surroundings, brows knitting in confusion, “How was it that I came to be here?”

King Jack’s expression and tone shifts to something more serious, something he tries to hide as he tends to a basin of water at your bedside. “A very good question indeed. The guards said you appeared from the ether in a crack of thunder and violet flames. I suspect you’ll have a good story to tell when High King Geoff calls on you to explain…” His words trail into silence, left unsaid with a shake of his head as he stands. “Just, rest. Regain your strength. We will talk when you are well.”

You watch him leave and for a moment you sit in the comfort of silence before a thought occurs to you. Reaching for the basin of water you bring it to sit within your lap, holding your breath as you dare to look at your at yourself within its reflective surface, surprised to find a fairly normal and familiar sight. All save for your right eye with its black sclera, slit pupil and a brilliant iris of glowing green.


End file.
